


One Mississippi, Two

by Verthril



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:39:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verthril/pseuds/Verthril
Summary: Drabbles of that gal from Meridian, who went and found herself falling for an ornery Canuck - Rogan





	1. Going Down?

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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"Look, Chica. I totally get why you're all hot to trot for the Juniors, what with that kink you got for leather..."

Oh no, not this again. Growling, Rogue glared right at Jubilee as if to set her straight on the matter once and for all, "I don't, and I ain't ever had a thing for leather."

Sadly, Rogue knew arguing with Jubilee did as much good as shouting at a brick wall, that being pretty pointless, especially if the girl had her phone out. Not that Jubilee was one of those vapid kind of kids who damn near zombie crawled their way through life glued to their phone, nope, not her. There was just some gossip that had to be kept up on, you know, tactically speaking, sort of like espionage. Or so past experience had gone and taught her.

"God, I don't even know why you're dragging me down to one of these dumb things. I mean, I've seen the bruises you and Kit come back with, and since Kitty can, ya know, literally ghost through shit, that's saying something!"

"She calls it phasing." Rogue corrected, knowing Kitty hated being treated like a spook, at least one of the supernatural variety.

"Whatev. Also, I happen to know the other reason why you dig the Juniors, you get to cherry pick powers! Personally speaking, mine suck."

Alright, at this Rogue had to fully get Jubilee's attention, because _personally speaking_ , she sure as fuck knew Jubilee's powers didn't suck.

"You blew up a fucking house!"

Ah, now there was a rare expression for Jubilee to make, sheepish, "I didn't mean to! See, my powers suck! I can't even control them!"

"Oh, you did not just say that to me!"

At least Jubilee had the good grace to look apologetic, because as far as the people with control issues at Xavier's went, Rogue herself was the reigning champ, while Logan held tight to second place due to his temper, read: berserker rage.

"Ugh, fine. I take it back. But let the record show that I did not mean to blow up that house, it was an accident. There were men with guns, you know, shooting at us? So what if I panicked?!"

Having all the while been waiting for the elevator to come that would ultimately take both her and Jubilee to the sub levels of the school, Rogue found herself glad to have an out from the present conversation. Because really, it wasn't as if it was a pissing contest with her as far as who could and couldn't control their powers. Heck, that was the whole reason they were at the school in the first place!

So, ready to get down to a little training in the ominously named Danger Room, Rogue found herself a little taken aback as the elevator doors finally did opened, revealing a mostly nekkid Logan, since his Calvin Kleins weren't hiding much. And god damn if he wasn't just the embodiment of nonplussed, having been caught changing in the elevator.

"Do ya like the angle of the dangle?" Or so Logan went and actually asked!

"Um, yes?" Why lie to the man? He could smell a lie, and it wasn't like she was a minor, heck no! Shit, she weren't no jail bait, she was a goddamn woman! Jubilee on the other hand, though...

"Just asking, because, you know, I haven't actually seen me a dick in real life yet. But you're not even hard, are you?" Wow, and there went Jubilee proving that her brain to mouth filter was right fucking non-existent.

"Nope."

_Click_ , went the camera as Jubes got down to a photo shoot while Logan went and treated the both of them to a strip tease in reverse, to then amble off without anything so much as another word, of which Rogue found herself very thankful for. Why? Well, because she couldn't even find her damn voice, not at least until she stumbled into the now vacant elevator.

"You are so sending me all the pictures you just took of that, or so help me, Jubes, I will put you in a coma!"

"Uh, just asking here, Roguey? But, what you're saying is that you want me to send you some dick pics?"

"Oh, I am so gonna whoop your scrawny arse once we get into the Danger Room..."

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	2. Met at the Bar - Part 1

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Met at a Bar - A No Powers AU - Part 1

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Three little words and she was his, _Got a light_?

Rogue had smiled then, foolishly even, as she looked down to the box of matches she'd been playing with, feeling silly to think that she didn't even smoke. No, there was just something intoxicating about lighting up the candles that would keep her company through an evening of wine and reading with real wooden matches. The crack, the hiss, the wafting aroma of smoke that hung around for a spell, it was magic.

Hiding out on the patio, bars were by no means her scene, too loud, too noisy, and far, far too crowded for her tastes, and yet that was she'd met him, her very own _Man in Black_. He'd looked about as comfortable in his two piece suit as she did spending a Friday night out for drinks with her friends from work, tugging at his tie like it was some noose tossed around his neck. Smiling then with down cast eyes, feeling plenty bashful, she'd offered them up without a word, waiting for the aroma that would remind her of how a Friday night was really meant to be spent.

Wondering then if he'd be the _Marlboro_ _Man_ she could so easily envision him to be, some rustic and rugged cowboy, no, he was a fella with a more refined taste than that, or so his cigar hinted, not some cheap dime store stogie either, no sir. And as sure as his eyes had caught the spark that came before the flame, she'd been trapped in his gaze as he stared back at her, his pursed lips so sinfully kissing that cigar as he softly coaxed an ember.

Sucking down a shuddering breath, for the chill in the evening air, the warmth of the tropics were subtly whispered from the sweet smoke she'd then so enjoyed in that moment.

' _Logan'_ , it was introduction made as he'd handed back her matches, one made awkward in all the silence to follow until she realized then that had been her cue, struggling to even remember her own name before offering it up with a nervous laugh, _'Rogue'_.

And just as in any of those steamy romance novels she so loved, one thing led to another, to small talk, to drinks, and ultimately to a cab. Destination? _His place_. Any other night, and some shy and reasonable part of her mind would have been screaming at her, telling her that she weren't the kind o' gal to go home with some fella she'd just met at a bar, god no, not her!

But last night hadn't been any other night, no, it'd been the sort of Friday night she'd only ever dared to dream about, so shy and reasonable got told to shush on up.

Sexy as he'd looked back at the bar, her _Man in Black_ , this fella she'd just met, _this Logan_ , he'd looked better from where she straddled him, his suit torn open to reveal the muscle shirt he wore beneath. Oh, but how they'd wrestled, fought, and bucked their way through stripping each other bare. Even thinking about it now, in the twilight of the next morning, Rogue blushed.

They fucked, her and her handsome stranger, and there wasn't no sugar coating it with flowery words either, nope, just brutal honesty. And yet, lying there with him in the aftermath of a Friday night she'd never forget, she noticed something had made it to his night stand, well, other than her bra, that little box of wood stick matches of hers.

"Gosh, and here folks always gave me shit for playing with matches..."

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	3. Met at the Bar - Part 2

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Met at a Bar - A No Powers AU - Part 2

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Twice now she'd already fallen back to sleep, content to lay with Logan until the daylight creeping in through the shades couldn't be ignored any longer. Cracking open an eye, roused as she was from some pleasant dream she so very much longed to return to, Rogue gosh darn near had herself a heart attack for what she saw through her sleep bleary eyes, "Holy shit!"

Standing there at the edge of the bed stood two girls looking like something out of _The Shining_ , well, except for them being dressed in matching _Frozen_ pyjamas instead of those damn creepy dresses. Sporting sleep tussled pixie cuts, these girls, one decidedly Asian while the other had herself a pair of startling green eyes that put her own to shame, stared at her with a wide eyed curiosity.

"Logan?" whispered Rogue.

Proving himself to be a deep sleeper, that alone earned him an elbow to the ribs as far as a wake up call went, "Logan?!"

"What?" growled her handsome stranger.

"Who the heck are these kids?!"

"Ah hell," rolling to his side so he could have himself a gander at the two kids in question, Logan stared at the pair of them before turning his stern eyes on the green eyed cutie in particular, "Yer supposed to be havin' yourself a sleep over at the neighbours, now ain't ya, Clarice?"

Looking herself to be five years old if she was a day, Clarice glanced on over to her friend in a way that bespoke of them silently agreeing on their story, "Missus Summers is making breakfast."

With how Logan groaned at this, rubbing his weary eyes with the heels of his hands as wakefulness dogged him, Rogue found herself with the distinct impression that this _Missus Summers_ weren't no Julia Child in the kitchen. Heaving himself a sigh, Logan looked back down to the two kids camped out on the edge of his bed, "What's she making?"

"Oatmeal." Clarice replied, wrinkling her nose as to give her opinion on the matter.

"She still tryin' to make it from scratch?" Levelling his gaze on the girl who'd so far remained silent, Logan got a quiet little nod as an answer to his question.

"Alright, fine. Seeing as I owe my lady friend here some breakfast, I might as well make enough for all o' us. Now skedaddle, go watch some cartoons or something."

Caught up in the kids infectious smiles and laughter as they hooted and cheered, Rogue followed after them with a sweet smile tugging at her lips as the two of them ran off. Turning back on Logan as the girls became just the trampling of tiny feet rushing on down the stairs, her smile became a lopsided smirk.

"I hope ya got a good explanation for all that, and it better not be that there's a _Missus Logan_ in the picture. Because let me tell ya this, Mister, I ain't no home wrecking hussy."

"Relax, they ain't mine." Logan promised, "Well, I suppose Clarice is my niece o' sorts, seein' how my brother went and adopted her."

Melting into the sheets as her pent up worry left her, Rogue listened for the noise of Saturday Morning Cartoons, or whatever it was kids watched these days.

"C'mon, I'll give ya the nickel tour," offered Logan, "We can start with my shower..."

And quicker than she could even say 'Yes please', he had her up and over his broad shoulders in fireman carry, _buck ass naked_.

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Denied the hot spray as she was crushed against the cold tiles that ran the length and breadth of the wall, Rogue shivered not from the chill that set her aroused peaks pert and rigid, but from the intimate touch that traced a low path from her navel. Biting hard against his tempting thumb that hung so near as he braced himself, at his pained grunt she laved attention along his every rough ridge and valley of his knuckle with the tip of her tongue.

He had her trapped, pinning her with his muscular frame beneath him, his breath at the base of her neck filling her with a longing to know his lips then, to feel his teeth rake against her goose flesh skin. Painful as it was to admit, they didn't have time for gentle, nor long, no, they only had time for subtle and swift. Nodding her head in unspoken agreement to the quiet questing of his steadfast timbre, at his ticklish touch of her innermost thigh she laughed, full of throaty want as he teased well past her evaporating endurance.

"Holy shit, is this what folks with kids gotta go through...?!" Rogue gasped as she finally relented her tight grip on his thumb.

"I wouldn't know," came his hoarse whisper but a heartbeat before he finally obliged her every wish, thrusting with a barely restrained surge of strength as he sought to satisfy them both.

Even still, in some fevered part of her mind, Rogue felt flushed with an anxious anticipation the likes of which she had never before known in her life, dreading at any moment to hear a knocking come at the door that would have put to shame ever having worried about her folks catching her and Cody foolin' around as kids. Excitement set alight her flesh with a wanton flame, biting at her bottom lip in some silly attempt to silence her every cry and gasp as Logan bucked at her with all the wildness of a stallion yet to be broken.

Coming hard, only to be tenderly caught by her lover, Rogue felt herself turned in a dizzying twist that left her bathed in the hot spray of the shower. With weak knees she buckled under the weight of her sudden fatigue, eased all the way down as Logan fell with her. And in the silence that followed, her laughter found an echo in his, though her giddy giggle stood alone, even if he was to blame for it, tracing circles on her tummy with his thumb, _Prick_.

"...just how bad is this _Missus Summers's_ oatmeal, anyway?"

To hear his chuckle so near, Rogue knew there weren't no getting out of it, even if she found herself plenty content to lay under the spray there with him until it finally ran cold.

"Darlin', if ya ever find yourself with a hankerin' for wallpaper paste, just as Jeannie to make ya up a pot o' what she calls _Oatmeal_."

Wrinkling her nose just like a little green eyed cutie herself had done, if it was every bit as bad as it sounded, no wonder the kids had gone and snuck on over in their PJ's to go and beg for their breakfast.

"Fine, but give me five more minutes."

Hell, she'd need that long just to find some strength in her legs...

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Dressed in a borrowed pair of boxers and one o' Logan's muscle shirts, Rogue sat at the island down in the kitchen, plenty enamoured to watch the two girls pick away at their pancakes, clumsily handling their forks that looked way too big in their tiny, little hands. Proving he could be downright domestic, what with fixing breakfast and throwin' on a load of laundry made up mostly of her unmentionables, Logan was one darn riddle she was looking forward to figuring out, but first...

"Need a hand, kiddo?"

Clarice's little friend, Jubilee, looked up from where she was trying to pick the peel off her clementine. Fluttering and shy eyes darted from the tiny orange to her, though only as Clarice offered up her own still as of yet untouched orange did Jubilee concede hers.

"Don't let that one fool ya, she's just shy around folk she doesn't know yet. Girl can be a _Chatty Cathy_ when she wants to be," Logan called from the stove where he was tending to some bacon and eggs.

Laughing as the girl in question proved Logan right with a petulant little raspberry aimed his way, Rogue offered the both of them back their peeled clementines, earning herself a quiet _'Thank you_ ' from the both of them.

So fancy that, how in the easy quiet of a Saturday morning spent nursing a mug o' coffee as she waited for her own breakfast, that she knew this weren't gonna be no one night stand, heck no!

She was, in a word, _smitten_.

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	4. Haunted - Part 1

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

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Post Last Stand - Snake Oil Cure AU - Part 1

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Waking from a nightmare of skidding tires, twisted steel, and screams, Rogue hated that she recognized so well the ceiling of the school infirmary. Her body ached, her every breath bringing with it the suffocating suffering of her broken ribs. Blinking away the tears that clouded her vision, she searched about and saw that her nightmare was no horrible dream. No, it was a painful reality that twisted her stomach into a terrible knot at seeing her friends laying so near, and in just as bad a shape as herself.

Try as she might to still the trembling of her lips as she longed to fight the urge to cry, it was with a sad and bitter smile that she took some solace in knowing that Bobby wasn't dead, nope, he just looked a damn sight near it. His body lay stiff and frozen as it healed itself, sobbing outright as she saw a grievous gash in his chest that was filled with ice. To hear the panicked shrieking of medical monitors echoing her own mournful wail, she knew she wouldn't be alone for long, and yet alone was all she wanted to be.

Searching for that other friend of hers who had been with them, her and Bobby, she saw Jubilee at last, and felt her heart skip a beat as she did. Stuck riding the bitch seat of that old Ford F150 truck, and all because she was such a tiny girl, Jubilee never complained none about it either, just so long as she got to pick what played on the radio.

Wincing, it all came back in the darkness that hid behind her lidded eyes, the car accident that had sent them all here. Bobby had been driving, trusting him to get them all home safe, seeing as how the roads were as slick as goose shit with rain. He hadn't been speeding none either, hell, he'd been doing a good ten miles under the limit just so he could see through the sheets that fell against the windshield, the wipers slapping back and forth vainly.

It all happened too fast, all in the blink of an eye, the blinding illumination of oncoming headlights dazing her after having grown so accustomed to the night. Remembering the moment of weightlessness that seemed to defy all reason, stark reality slammed down hard. Struggling in the flipped over wreck of their truck as they lay in a ditch somewhere, for all she fought she couldn't get free, no, she was trapped, stuck there with too much damn skin touching skin, Jubilee's.

And just like then, scared and terrified, her panic took hold and unleashed something that wasn't hers, an explosion that was fit for the Fourth of July, all fuelled by her livid and raw emotions that lay as an exposed nerve.

For as frightened as she was, fatigue still dragged her back down below into the welcome abyss of a dreamless sleep, her last waking thought a funny one, swearing she heard Logan there shouting her name.

But that was just silly talk. Fuck, everyone knew he loved Jean! So what the fuck was he doing back?! _God dammit, Logan!_

And here she'd gone and hung up his dog tags ages ago...

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	5. Haunted - Part 2

 

Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

Post Last Stand - Snake Oil Cure AU - Part 2

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Dragged from a slumber fit for the dead, Rogue knew just where she was this time, and just what had all happened, the accident, the aftermath, everything. The infirmary was dark, lit only by the dim light of the medical monitors that kept an eye on them all, her, Bobby, and Jubilee. Breathing didn't hurt none this time either, proving she hadn't been dreaming when she heard his voice, Logan. She felt better in everyway his borrowed healing could fix, but she was still broken where it counted, her heart and soul.

Sitting up slowly, she was glad the only thing they had on her now was one of those clip on heart monitors, because the idea of tearing out an IV without Hank there to do the honours scared the bejesus out of her. Slipping off her bed, no, actually that was wrong, as her bed was still an elevator ride away, one she longed for as tired as she was. Regardless, the floor was icy cold to her bare feet, the whole room having itself a chill to it.

The reason was obvious, Bobby, frozen over with protective ice as his body healed itself as it was want to do. Trauma, she knew, brought out the most surprising aspects of their gifts, even if it was terrifying to see in a boy she'd once been in love with, well, at least had been crushing pretty hard on at one point in her life. As she crept to his bed, she noticed the space heater set up there, probably the only reason the room didn't feel like a legitimate gosh darn meat locker...

"Hey," Rogue whispered, hovering her fingers along the gash that ran across his chest.

Clenching her hand into a fist, words lost to the past came back to her as an echo, _I hope you're not doing this for a boy_ , the Cure. Laughing sorrowfully, her voice brittle in the quiet of the infirmary, some cure it was. She was right back where she started, afraid to touch anyone lest she hurt them. And at that thought a sob shook her, one that led to an awful whimpering as she fought to regain her composure.

"Kid?"

Damn near pissing herself for how shit scared she was all of a sudden, through her tear bleary eyes she looked up to see him standing there at the door like a ghost, her Logan. All of a sudden she was sixteen again, running to him as she always had whenever she hurt, caught up in his arms without a hitch of hesitation from him, "Where the fuck were you?!"

No phone calls, no postcards, not even a god damn text just to prove he was still alive! Nothing! As days became weeks, and weeks months, she worried, until finally the day came that she realized it'd been over a year, the day she'd gone and hung up his dog tags, "...I thought ya were never comin' back."

"I'm sorry," Logan whispered, and no lip service was this apology of his, as it had the weight of all the years apart bearing heavy down heavy on it.

Hugging him as she always had, without ever worrying about hurting him, some tiny little part of her mind was screaming at her, raging against how easily she had fallen into his arms. Ignoring it for the sense of safety his arms lent her, Rogue finally let herself cry as she had wanted to ever since waking up. She didn't have to be strong just then, no, she could be every bit as wounded as she rightfully felt should be.

Wherever he'd been, whatever his reasons, they could all wait until tomorrow, all that mattered now was that he was home at last, and here for her when she so desperately needed a shoulder to cry on...

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And cry she had, for what felt like hours, time was so hard to tell down in the darkness of the sub-levels of the school. He'd stayed with her until she'd been all cried out, her eyes burning and red, her cheeks stained, and her lips cracked and dry.

He'd done her one last favour too before leaving, well, other than promising to be there when she woke up. Logan had gone and gotten all her bedding, even that body pillow she'd been treating like a teddy bear as of late, and no, she wasn't gonna explain who the fella on it was either, nope. If he didn't know who _Roronoa Zoro_ was, then that was his problem, and damn Jubilee for getting her hooked on that silly cartoon, ahem, _anime_.

Soul weary, tired, and just too damn tuckered out, all she wanted to do was get some shut eye...

" _Kid_? Seriously?! That's the first fucking thing he says to you? God dammit, girl! You're not sixteen no more!"

Jerking out of her borrowed bed, that was a voice she knew almost as well as her own, that of Jubilee, a girl with the gift for gab if there ever was one. Already half way across the floor when, in the darkness, she noticed that no, Jubilee hadn't made a miraculous recovery, she felt foolish. Jubilee still seemingly slept with machines doing her breathing for her, just as sickening a sight as the first time she had laid eyes upon it.

"God damn, I must be tired, I'm fuckin' hallucinating. I better tell Hank about this tomorrow."

"Oh, while you're at it, you should tell him to order some gowns that zip up, because just saying, you've been showing what you're momma gave ya, savvy?"

Struck frozen, there was no doubt about it this time, she'd heard the impossible, that being Jubilee teasing and sassing her. Wait a minute, "Oh my gawd..."

The whole time he'd been consoling her, the only thing keeping her decent had been the flimsy paper gown putting her ass on show for everyone, being him, Logan!

"Jubilee...?"

And suddenly there she was, fluttering right there before her eyes as a straight up Disney faerie.

"What?" asked Jubilee, "You thought if I was gonna haunt you, that I'd do it as some creepy ass voice in your head? Shit no, bitch! I'm motherfucking Tinkerbell!"

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